Lord of Scoundrels - Loretta Chase [52]
"I do," he said, smiling. "If you refuse me and attempt litigation, you'll only humiliate yourself. Everyone will believe you're a money-hungry slut."
"And if I accept your make-believe offer of marriage, you'll play along until the last minute— and leave me waiting at the altar," she said. "And humiliate me anyhow."
He laughed. "And open the door to a long, expensive breach-of-promise suit? Make Herriard's job easier for him? Think again, Jess. And keep it simple, why don't you? Marriage or nothing."
She snatched up the first thing at hand— a small but heavy brass figure of a horse.
Mr. Herriard stepped toward her. "Miss Trent," he said quietly. "I beg you will resist the temptation."
"Might as well," said Dain. "It won't do a bit of good. I can duck a missile, if not a bullet."
She set down the statue and turned to Herriard. "You see, don't you?" she asked. "He's not offering in order to make amends, because he doesn't think he owes me any. All he wants is to get the better of me— and getting the better of you in the bargain will make his triumph all the sweeter to him."
"It hardly matters what you think of me," said Dain. "There are only two choices. And if you're waiting for me to make it more palatable by falling to my knees and begging for your hand, Jess, you may wait until Judgment Day," he added with a laugh.
She heard it then, faint but recognizable. She'd heard it before, in boyish boasts and taunts: the small, discordant note of uncertainty beneath the laughter. She swiftly reviewed the words he'd uttered, and wondered if that was all his pride would allow him to say. Masculine pride was an exceedingly precious and fragile item. That was why males built fortresses about it, practically from infancy.
I'm not afraid, boys said, laughing, when they were sick with terror. They laughed off floggings and pretended to feel nothing. They also dropped rodents and reptiles into the laps of little girls they were infatuated with, and laughed in that same uncertain way when the little girls ran away screaming.
His proposal was, perhaps, the equivalent of a gift of a reptile or rodent. If she indignantly rejected it, he would laugh, and tell himself that was precisely what he wanted.
But maybe it wasn't.
Jessica reminded herself that "maybe" was hardly a reliable basis for marriage.
On the other hand, Genevieve had advised her to reel him in. Even as late as this morning, after all that had happened, Genevieve had not changed her mind. "I know he behaved abominably, and I do not blame you for shooting him," she said. "But recollect that he was interrupted at a time a man most dislikes interruption. He was not thinking rationally. He could not. All the same, I am certain he cares for you. He did not look so insolent and cynical when he danced with you."
"Marriage or nothing," Dain's impatient voice broke into her thoughts. "Those are the terms, the only terms. Take your pick, Jess."
* * *
Dain told himself it didn't matter. If she consented, he could at least exorcise his idiotic lust in exchange for the extortionate sum he had to pay. Then he could leave her in Devon and pick up his life again. If she refused, he'd pay nothing, and she would go away and stop plaguing him, and he would forget the lust and her. Either way, he won and she lost.
But his heart pounded all the same, and his gut twisted with a chill, throbbing dread he had not felt since his boyhood.
He set his jaw and endured while he watched her move away from Herriard toward a chair. But she didn't sit down. She simply stared at it, her beautiful face a blank.
Herriard frowned. "Perhaps you want some time, Miss Trent. A few minutes of privacy. I am sure His Lordship would concede that much," he said, turning the frown upon Dain. "After all, the lady's entire future is at stake."
"I don't need more time," said Miss Trent. "It is easy enough to calculate the assets and liabilities on either side."
She looked up at Dain and, to his astonishment, smiled. "I find the prospect of a life of poverty and obscurity